Unfailing Destiny
by laydeexrose
Summary: "Shhh, it's alright, it's alright…it's me, I'm here now," Arthur murmured into her hair as she struggled for breath.  "You're going to be okay, Morgana, I promise.  I'm right here… "  Set in 3x05 when Arthur found Morgana after her fall.


Arthur was in the midst of undoing his sword belt from around his waist when he heard distant footsteps in the corridors. He paused, listening attentively as the echoes of heels on pavement grew louder. There was only one person he knew in the castle who wore anything remotely close to a heel and she was the same person who often deluded herself into thinking she could strut in and out of the castle alone at night when he'd repeatedly warned her not to. Of course, every warning he had ever given Morgana le Fay had always fallen on deaf ears.

He groaned, dreading the argument that was to follow if he confronted her and dragged her back to her chambers. And he _had_ to confront her. The last thing he needed was for her to be declared missing, yet again. On her _birthday_.

Inwardly cursing the King's ward for ruining what had been a good day for them, when she'd softened after he'd given her the jeweled dagger as a gift, Arthur threw the door to his chambers open and stepped out. It was silent now, no sign of Morgana's footsteps anywhere. For a brief second, he wondered if she'd already made it out of the castle-but how could that be? He'd been sure he heard her just moments ago-

"_Help!_" Arthur froze, recognizing the panicked voice to be that of his manservant, Merlin.

The voice had come from the end of the corridor, where the winding stairs leading down to the entrance hall were. As Arthur sprinted closer, he was surprised to find one of the two castles' torches that framed the doorway lying on the ground, threatening to tip over the edge of the steps. He caught it before it could and leant it against the wall before hurrying down the steps.

"Merlin, what on earth are you shouting at for-" He broke off as he caught sight of Merlin's face, pale and horrified, as he stared down at something near the bottom of the steps. Arthur turned his head to see what had made him like this, "Merlin-what-"

All the blood seemed to drain out of his body as he caught sight of the figure lying at the foot of the stairs, his vision obscured with strewn locks of long, ravenous, dark curls and the red fabric of her riding cloak and dress. He could feel Merlin shaking beside him and wondered if his own trembling was just as tangible. He couldn't form a thought, a coherent one, at least. All he could see was _her_ like _that_. This couldn't be happening. He had just heard her, he'd been just about to _argue_ with her…She had to get up. How was he supposed to fight with her if she just lay there?

_She needs you. Go to her now, _a voice said in his head and he quickly pulled out of his reverie, several years of commanding his knights as Prince of Camelot automatically steering him to take charge of the situation.

"Get Gaius- go now!" He shouted over his shoulder as he darted down the steps and heard Merlin rush up to the corridor.

Morgana was a crumpled figure on the floor when he reached her. Her face was pale, too pale, and ghost-like in comparison. The only colour left on her face was the blood from the laceration on her temple and her lips, which were steadily turning blue. Her eyes were closed, but her expression was not of peace. Something sharp and cold pierced his heart when he realized that she was still half-conscious, that she could still _feel_, and that she was in pain.

He was almost too scared to move her. After all, he had no idea what injuries she had sustained aside, especially internally. But he had to. He loved her too much to leave her on the floor, alone and looking so broken and vulnerable, when he could take her securely into his arms. Let her know that he was here now.

"Morgana," He called her name gently, turning her around and gathering her in his arms. She reacted to his touch by letting out a tiny whimper which was followed by very harsh breathing.

"Shhh, it's alright, it's alright…it's me, I'm here now," Arthur murmured into her hair as she struggled for breath. "You're going to be okay, Morgana, I promise. I'm right here… I'll take care of you."

Merlin arrived with Gaius then and Arthur was given instructions by the court physician to carefully carry her to his room, making sure that her head was not put under any pressure. He did as he was told, very gently lifting Morgana's frail body off the ground and following the other two men out of the stairwell and down the deserted corridor.

He didn't say a word as they hurried through halls and down steps, even when Merlin and Gaius were having muted conversations about Morgana's rapidly failing health. This meant that Gaius knew what was wrong with her. And he knew by the way the physician spoke that he was not confident that he could help her this time.

Morgana whimpered again, her trembling, if possible, becoming more and more pronounced. Her head was rested against his shoulder, one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back. Morgana never cried out in pain, _never._ So to Arthur, who'd become accustomed to Morgana gritting her teeth when she fell off her horse or accidently cut herself, seeing the pain and fear so evident on her semi-conscious face was a very, very bad sign. He did the best he could to comfort her, whispering words that he knew she would've called "meaningless nothings" if she wasn't currently at death's door.

"You're okay, you're fine, Morgana…shhh, don't worry, love, I'm here, I'm here…"

When Arthur had first heard her footsteps that night, which now felt like an eternity ago, he hadn't known it would be the last time that what was left of _his_ Morgana would be walking through their childhood home of Camelot. He'd wanted to protect her from what was out there, only to find that something as simple as the stone steps of the castle would be responsible for nearly taking her away from him forever. The repercussions of everything that had happened that night would follow, just as surely as each of their destinies had them bound, and Morgana would finally succumb to the darkness that had threatened to suffocate her in her dreams the moment she had first laid eyes on the blue eyes and blonde hair of Arthur Pendragon. He would be ready to sacrifice his throne in the hopes that she would see another sunrise in the days that were to come after her fall. Neither of them knew that one day, she would be willing to kill him to obtain the very thing that he'd made clear he would sacrifice for her. Just for her.


End file.
